


Control

by Justafan2021



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Like father like son, Malcolm looses control, Season 2, Serial Killers, Strangulation, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:21:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28913790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justafan2021/pseuds/Justafan2021
Summary: A possible projection of how I see things going this season.In which Ainsley confronts her father about his fixation on Malcolm despite doing what Malcolm couldn’t (murder) and says some things that trigger Malcolm into a rage.
Relationships: Ainsley Whitly & Martin Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Ainsley Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Martin Whitly
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	Control

‘It’s always him. It’s always him! I did this. Even though did all of this, for you! To show you how good I am. This was me! Not HIM! Why won’t you look at me?! Why don’t you see me?!’

Martin sucks in a breath of shocked air, focusing back in on her, before his lips twitch up slightly and his expression softens in that sickening way of his. Breathing out, ‘Oh, oh my girl. Of course I see you, of course I do. You’re magnificent and I am so, so proud. You think I don’t see what you’ve done? It’s more than I ever dreamed for you.. for either of you!’

I can see her hysterical wounded expression ease into a slightly hopeful light. Martins eyes flicker briefly over to me as if guiltily checking my own reaction to his words, as if he can sense the thundering turmoil inside me that had been building for weeks. It couldn’t have been no more than a second but she caught it because her face fell instantly. Clouding over in a dark guarded fury. 

‘But it’s still not enough.’

‘Ainsley-‘ I try, clinging on to the habit of taping up the cracks, hoping to ease her down. No good ever came from a hysterical serial murderer after all. 

‘NO!’ She rounds on me, approaching slowly. ‘THIS IS YOU! MY WHOLE LIFE. I’VE BEEN TRAPPED IN YOUR SHADOW... and it’s not fair. You kept me from him! You kept him all to yourself and now I have something with him that you don’t have! I know what it’s like to kill people!’

I look away and clench my teeth hard, squeezing my clenched shaking hand tighter still.  
‘You don’t know what it’s like to have that kind of control.’ She continues, stopping her advance a meter away from me on our side of Martin’s cell. She’s practically glowing with vindictive pride, head held high. I can see in the corner of my eye Dr Whitley nervously stepping closer, flicking his head back an forth between us a nervous glint in his eyes given away by the tongue coming out to lick his lips. He attempts to cut in ‘My girl, that’s enough now, there’s no need for-’

She barrels on ahead oblivious to the burning turmoil of fear, reluctant jealously, and.. rage swirling to a toxic boil inside my chest, the turmoil that the psychopath is probably beginning to recognise. I’m breathing heavily through my nose, eyes flicking back to her sharply. I can feel it spreading through my body, through my lungs, my heart, feel it overtaking my mind. ‘You’re nothing like us! You’re not even in control of yourself! I mean you’re so broken, your mind is literally falling to pieces-’

It feels like a tangible snap as the rage wins out. I feel it slipping through into my fingers, stilling my shaking hand in a sudden, rare moment. A rare moment I can sense my father hone in on like a hawk, most likely guessing what it means. ‘Mal-’, before he can speak my name and before Ainsley can even blink in realisation, I’ve got her by the neck and shoved harshly up against the wall beside the door. One hand cuts off her breathing and the other grips her left wrist tight in a bruising grip. Her eyes are wide open in fear, disbelief apparent in her gaze. He hears a slight choking sound and the sound of his father saying his name before years of repression come pouring out like an avalanche.

‘CONTROL?! You think you have even the vaguest semblance of what control is?! You call what you’ve done an act of control? I’ve been cleaning up after you this entire time. You’re sloppy, too high off of your adrenaline every time to do ANYTHING right! I’M ALWAYS IN CONTROL!! I’VE RESISTED MY INSTINCTS FOR YEARS. I found a sensible outlet and then you had to go and FUCK IT ALL UP!’ I take a breath and vaguely hear as though through water, Dr Whitley pleading with him not to kill her, to not kill my sister, to breath.

I do. 

Recognition that I’m close to killing her seeps through and I ease up on the crushing grip I have on her throat. The pressure around her neck had increased the more I talked but I can’t quite bring myself to relinquish my grip on her wind pipe, the feeling intoxicating. Years of denying myself is barrelling through me all at once. It would be justified. She’s a killer. 

But she’s my sister. 

Can you even stop now? Do you even really want to?..

It would solve everything. 

‘Malcolm!’

Dr Whitley’s voice finally pierces through the haze as Ainsley’s eyes start to roll up into her head. I grit my teeth and with a roar let her go. I pace quickly up and down the strip, back to viciously clenching and unclenching my fists, teeth gritted and gaze pinned on her as she sucks in lung fulls of jagged air. She begins shaking curled protectively against the wall as she seems to try to remember how to breath. She avoids my wild stare in favour of the tiled floor and Persian rug.

Martin tries to grab my arm, to still my movement on my next pass of him in hopes of diverting my attention. It focuses my whirling thoughts, a twitch in my neck as a I focus back in on her. ‘I kept you safe! I kept you safe from him! I kept you safe from us! You got a normal life you ungrateful-’ Martin manages to grab me this time and I freeze. Allowing him to yank me close to him in a half hug, restricted by restraints. I can feel my heart thundering in my ears as I adjust to the sensation of his touch, so strange, as it was when he last grabbed my wrist. It centres me for the first time this evening, slowing all the noise to a grinding halt until all I can her is his breathing in my ear. Gentle words telling me to focus, to calm and some whimpering I’m sorry’s from Ainsley’s cowering ball in the corner. Gone was the vengeful killer, and in its place was the part of her that never remembered. The part of Ainsley that was still innocent. A lump grows in my throat as my educated brain allows in thoughts I’d known all along, her mind is split and I’d lost control. 

She wasn’t like us and I’d shown him too much.

‘My boy.’

**Author's Note:**

> Just had to put this to paper. I kept thinking about how as a predatory psychopath Martin always needs to be in control and the parallel to Malcolm who is always seeking to have some control over his own life to not be like his father. I remembered the episode in Season 1 where he is called in to have his mental state assessed and he insists that he is always needed in a display of narcissism like his father. The fbi was also trying to suggest that he shared personality traits like his father in the first episode of season one. 
> 
> It would be really cool if someone took this idea further!


End file.
